


Predator: SVU

by Prairiefire



Category: Alien vs Predator
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:12:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prairiefire/pseuds/Prairiefire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hunters separated by species and light years are about to team up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Predator: SVU  
> Author: Prairiefire  
> Chapter: One: In the Beginning  
> Fandom: Predator AU  
> Warnings: Adult Situations, Controversial Subject Material, Graphic Violence/Gore, Rape, Sexual Situations  
> Orientation: Het  
> Pairings: Human Female/Male Predator, Female Predator/Male Predator  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Predator, nor do I make earn any monetary compensation for the stories I write that feature such characters. However, all my original characters are just that, original. That makes them mine, and they cannot be used without my express written permission.  
> Word Count: 4154

Yautja Home world

The female's screaming was beginning to annoy Al'brk'vix. He was a Blooded hunter, who was she to decline his advances. It was his right to spread his seed, and he had chosen to do it with this female. But she refused him. He may have been on the short side, and his muscles were not as bulging as other stockier hunters, but it wasn't his fault. He was built on the lines of a runner, and he was one of the fastest hunters in his clan. He was finally tired of getting the leftovers. Throughout his life it had been left over food. In training he always got the leftover weapons and 'awu'asa, or armor. When hunts were decided, he was always chosen last to be part of a pack. Now, he couldn't even get the leftover females. None would have anything to do with him and he had had enough of it.

Gathering his raggedy pack of other unpopular, Al'brk'vix set about to prove that he was strong enough to father his chosen female's sucklings. And now that the two unBlooded were holding her down he was ready to father his first offspring. However, first Al'brk'vix had to quiet her. With this noise, every person within five miles would hear her. First, Al'brk'vix tried to simply cover her mouth with his hand. When she sank the teeth of her inner mouth into it Al'brk'vix tried to pull it back. With an unmistakable challenging growl the female sank the tusks on her mandibles into the flesh of her tormentor's hand. Fluorescing green blood ran down her face and dripped on the ground before Al'brk'vix ripped his hand away.

Though larger and stronger than Al'brk'vix, the female was now helpless. Without the two other males holding her arms down she could have easily defended herself from Al'brk'vix. While struggling with the two weights on her arms and Al'brk'bix straddling her torso she entertained ideas of their fates. She knew what the scrawny male intended to do. Impregnate her. Her initial rejection proved true when he needed two others to hold her down to do it. All of them would be sentenced to death. Rape was a serious crime, and one no yautja got away with. The other one, the older one that was acting as hult'ah would also share the same fate. She just had to make sure that she was found quickly so that the filth of this male could be cleansed from her as soon as possible. The possibility of dying never entered her mind. While rape was rare, the only deaths that usually resulted were the males, either at the hands of the female at the time of the act, or at the hands of the Arbitrators.

Al'brk'vix was furious. The female kept struggling and screaming. Her strength was incredible; she would make an excellent dame for one of his line. But first he had to quiet her and stop her struggling. He didn't want to hurt himself while he seeded her. He hated being hurt, that is why he preferred the ranged weapons and rarely initiated jehdin/jehdin. Gathering a new idea, he tore the ceremonial neck protector from the female's neck. Tossing the elaborate bone-and-stone neck piece aside he took both his hands and placed them around her neck. Slowly he began to apply pressure to her windpipe. Slowly the female stopped her screaming, but never stopped the guttural growl that resonated deep within her.

Satisfied that she was now reasonably controlled Al'brk'vix unclasped the sash that held her dress around her midsection with one hand, the other still residing on her throat. Her scent was sweet. The breeding season was about to start and she smelled ready for it already. He trilled his pleasure as he moved lower on her body. The sight of her lower region almost sent him over the edge. He dipped his head lower to her and let his long, prehensile tongue wander over her opening. Her taste was as intoxicating as her temper. Al'brk'vix knew he would be able to taste her for days after this mating.

Pulling away reluctantly, Al'brk'vix quickly reached for the clasp on his own cloth. As it fell away his pulsing erection sprang free. Grunting at the two unBloods to watch the female closely he released his hand from her throat. She was no long struggling as violently as she was before, but she still growled. Many females growled throughout mating so Al'brk'vix did not worry. He gripped her hips as he prepared the sheath himself inside her. Al'brk'vix snarled at her as he forced himself inside her. He quickly withdrew from her and just as quickly plunged himself in her again. She had not been aroused beforehand and the passage was dry. That, however, would not prevent the creation of his children. Al'brk'vix continued to stare at the female snarling as he pounded into her. Her passage became slippery as her body released her juices to aid the male. The purely physical reaction of her body seemed to enrage the female and she began struggling again.

Her attempts to throw Al'brk'vix off only forced him deeper into her. As she rose to meet him, Al'brk'vix found his release and felt the tension that had been building since the day he met her was released with his seed. Feeling the filth of the male within her, the female howled her ire at the yautja that was pulling himself out of her.  
Al'brk'vix panted as he once again straddled his female. She would be his and now that she was seeded, she would carry his child. She had to realize that, but she kept fighting. Vicious hisses and snarls left her as she refused to speak to the vile males that had violated her. Al'brk'vix was not afraid though. He just had to stop her fighting again. Pulling himself up her body he let his now limp penis trail along her stomach. He paused there to look down. His child would grow there. She would birth a strong whelp for him. Looking back up at her face, he saw the violent temper that attracted him to her in the first place. He replaced his hands at her throat and squeezed. He would quiet her long enough for her to see reason. Her fighting clouded his mind. All he saw was a writhing female under him as he held his hands tight against her windpipe. His instincts took over as she kept fighting, no longer just for release but for air. Al'brk'vix did not release his hold, so far gone was he that he didn't notice her face draining of its natural color. She kept struggling for several minutes before the deprivation of air began to take its toll on her. Her struggles and growls became weaker and weaker until, with one final hiss of defiance, they ceased completely.

Wrk'va approached the scene from the east and addressed Al'brk'vix, "Ki'cte." Al'brk'vix, that is enough. What have you done?" Wrk'va pulled his leader off of the female and bent down to place a hand on her chest. Already his mask was showing a fading heat signature, but the certainty of the information was not confirmed until he touched the female's still chest. Feeling no heartbeat he whirled on Al'brk'vix who was replacing his armor and weapons and continued, "We have to leave. Several passing females heard the commotion and are sending for an arbitrator. We have to get out of here now. If Esh'ta finds us here, he will kill us."

"Let him come," countered Al'brk'vix calmly. "That old male can't defeat me," he continued as he reacquired his weapons, most notably his shoulder mounted plasma cannon.

"I most certainly can," a deep bass voice rumbled from the shadows of the trees. A large shape stepped into the four Bad Bloods view, revealing an armor-clad warrior. The new male stood 7'4" and was massively built. Covered in scars and decorated with small bones and skulls, the warrior was obviously an experienced veteran. He wore only one visible weapon, his ki'cti-pa, wrist blades. Undoubtedly there were other weapons hidden on his person. The ornate pewter-colored armor had several hidden scabbards to hide various blades, and the black cape flowing down the newcomer's back was perfect for hiding a ki'its-pa, spear. The only weapon that was, not surprisingly, completely missing was the shoulder mounted plasma caster. A master of combat had to handicap himself after all.

"Esh'ta!" exclaimed a startled Al'brk'vix.

"I do know my own name, you dishonorable s'yuit-de. You are an incredibly stupid one. Did you honestly think that you could rape and kill the daughter of an elder and get away with it?" mocked Esh'ta. "You and your pathetic cohorts will be dealt with here and now. If I were you I would consider the manner of my death. You can save some of your honor by ending your life now. I have no wish to dirty my hands or weapons with your filthy blood."

During this exchange the three other Bad Bloods began to back away from the two aggressive adversaries. Already the area was saturated with the smell of h'sui'se, musk. Esh'ta turned his head slightly for his mask to record the images of the three other yautja who had helped their Leader commit such a heinous act. He was not surprised to see Wrk'va here. He was always a follower, never one to question orders, some thought of him as an idiot, but an excellent fighter and hunter none the less. The two unBloods he could not place, but they would be dealt with anyway. This distraction was all the opening that the smaller male needed.

With a roar of fury, Al'brk'vix charged at the distracted Arbitrator. Not being caught completely off guard Esh'ta jumped into the air and somersaulted over the enraged younger warrior. Slashing with his ki'cti-pa, he only managed to score a small cut on the arm of his opponent. Landing behind Al'brk'vix, Esh'ta turned as the Bad Blood did. Crouching into hiju position he flared his mandibles and reached for the ki'its-pa under his cape. Bringing it around in front of him, he extended the compact spear to its full length. Every blade on it gleamed in the moonlight, the hanging decorations danced with the motion of Esh'ta's movements. There was no mistaking that this was a deadly weapon, one that had been used successfully on many adversaries.

"Care to try again," challenged Esh'ta. "Or are you too much of a coward. That new cut would make a great matching scar to the one on your hand …if you were to live past tonight."

Al'brk'vix balked momentarily at the challenge of the Arbitrator. The respite was only momentary when he remembered what was sitting perched on his shoulder. The powerful plasma cannon was almost overkill at this range, not to mention an unfair advantage over an opponent that only had close range weapons. But then, Al'brk'vix was not above taking or making an unfair advantage. Smirking behind his mask, he activated his laser targeting system and took aim at the challenging Arbitrator.  
A surprised hiss escaped Esh'ta. Surely, Al'brk'vix was not so dishonorable to fire his weapon when his opponent had only hand weapons. Almost too late, Esh'ta heard the distinctive whir right before the weapon discharged. Leaping to the right he barely managed to get out of the way of the super-heated ball of gas as it raced to his former position. The searing heat left his left leg smoldering as the plasma bolt raced past him. Recovering and leaping again all in one fluid motion, Esh'ta avoided another shot from Al'brk'vix's cannon. Now seriously regretting not bringing at least a net gun Esh'ta made a final dodge to avoid a third white hot bringer of death. Even as he thought of it, a net shot out from the side of Al'brk'vix and snared him. He hit the ground hard and as he struggled the net holding him began to wind itself tighter.  
With his only obstacle to escape now pinned down Al'brk'vix grinned evilly. Wrk'va had perfect aim with that net gun. Stalking up to the now helpless Esh'ta, Al'brk'vix retrieved the dropped ki'its-pa. Studying it leisurely now, he examined the decorations more closely. He noted the small bones, feathers and pieces of furred pelt that adorned its handle. He also noted the engravings.

Turning to the still form of Esh'ta, Al'brk'vix said, "It will make a fine addition to my arsenal." Receiving only a growl in reply, he took aim with the laser sights situated over by his right eye. Esh'ta however, was not ready to give up just yet. Unbeknownst to Al'brk'vix, Esh'ta unsheathed a knife from a hidden spot near where his hand was pinned. As Al'brk'vix aimed at the prone form of Esh'ta he smiled inside. The knife began to slice through the netting on the side farther away from the Bad Blood, but just as the net came free enough for Esh'ta to wriggle away Al'brk'vix fired his weapon.

The deadly fire shot point blank range into its target. There was no avoiding the projectile this time. Esh'ta went down hard. A large greenish-black hole in his chest smoked where the plasma had melted his armor and devoured its way through his heart and out his back. He fell to the ground dead.

Wrk'va shook himself out of his stupor and approached the agitated Al'brk'vix. "We have to leave NOW, Leader. Get a ship and get off the planet. They will send another Arbitrator when Esh'ta does not return. There will be m-di h'chak granted when they have seen what we have done. Bad enough killing an elder's daughter, but to kill an Arbitrator."

"Yes. We will leave now. There is nothing to be gained by remaining here," Al'brk'vix stated sharply as he turned and stalked off to the field that the ships were gathered in.

"There is plenty of prey across the galaxy, and I know the perfect place to go for a Hunt."

Setg'-in Clan mother ship in orbit over yautja home world

The council of elders exited the hangar leaving two of their own to speak with the Arbitrator before his mission. As the two males and three females left the hanger of the larger ship the elder female and male turned to the younger Arbitrator. The first to speak was the male.

"Bring my daughter's killer the justice he deserves young warrior," Hin'lig commanded as he looked down at the eager warrior. "Glory and honor await you on this hunt."  
"The last known trajectory of the Bad Blood ship has been downloaded into your ship's navigational computer," added the elder female coolly. With a brusque nod Hin'lig reached for the Arbitrator's shoulder and shook it slightly. When the action was returned Hin'lig turned and left the docking bay. The last two occupants watched the old male leave, when at last the female turned back to the Arbitrator.

"Thread cautiously my son," the older female warned. "You must be setg'-in, deadly and quick like our Clan name. You must also be kwei, sly and tricky. This Al'brk'vix does not fight with honor. You will have to outsmart him to defeat him."

"Mother, I shall bring honor to myself and our clan. The s'yuit-de will be meeting Cetanu soon," spoke the Arbitrator confidently as he strode up the ramp onto his ship. "And I will return the ki'its-pa that you gave father. It will be returned to its rightful owner."

"Vek'rin'ka, come back home safe. This Bad Blood is h'ulij-bpe," the elder embraced her favorite son before releasing him to continue on his way. "I pray that Paya blesses you on this hunt with much honor and many trophies."

"Mother," a slightly embarrassed Vek'rin'ka started, "I will return with everything that I need." Turning from his mother, Vek'rin'ka boarded his ship and closed the hatch. Once the bay was clear the technicians decompressed the space and opened the doors that would allow the small ship to exit.

Once clear of the mother ship the small craft accelerated until it entered hyperspace. The last traces of it remained in a flash of light for several seconds as the ships hyper drive engines engaged. Then there was nothing.

Miami Metro Park, Miami, Florida, USA

A dark figure skulked around the park. It had only been a few minutes since a brace of strung out crack heads had passed by. The lonely figure surely did not wish to be found at the moment. Glancing at the bundle of generic Wal-Mart brand blankets at his feet he relived the last week in vivid detail. The girl had been perfect. Her small body had never been touched, never tainted until he had had her himself. The look of innocence when she was delivered almost caused him to lose control. That had happened more often recently. He was getting reckless. If he didn't compose himself soon, he wouldn't be a free man much longer.

Still, her appearance when she was delivered had been divinely innocent. He had followed his same routine as with the other girls. He befriended them quickly, they were so eager to finally talk to someone who spoke Spanish. He had learned their likes and dislikes. That game was always fun to play. Then he had shown them what friends do for each other. Their small bodies were exquisite. Soft with youth not yet hardened by a harsh life. Everything from their hands to their mouths to their bottoms. Oh, how he had enjoyed this one when he had initiated her into womanhood.

He had waited as the sun set beyond the city's skyline. As the darkness crept up the only occupants of the forlorn park aside from the quiet man were the junkies enjoying their fix and the homeless drunks who couldn't get into the shelter just down the street. As the drunks bed themselves down in the bushes to avoid the often psychotic episodes of the junkies the quiet man heard a rustling behind him.

"Occupied," he hissed vehemently at the intruder.

"Shurry mun," slurred the staggering man trying to push his way into the thicket. "Ishn't room for two ish there?"

"No," the quiet man spat. "Get lost. Find your own place." With that the drunk stumbled off to find a more hospitable place to bed down for the night. The quiet man turned back to surveying the goings on in the park. Scarcely ten minutes passed before he decided where to leave his package. The now-defunct fountain in the park courtyard would be perfect. Forsaken beauty, perfect for his former treasure. The stone dolphin, whose snout had spilled water in better times, that sat in the middle of the fountain was a perfect monument to the angel at his feet. She had loved looking at the dolphins when she first arrived. That is where he would lay her to rest. It suited her. And he was terribly sorry in his own sick way for the last thing he had done to her. He would no longer be able to enjoy her or pleasure her.

With most of the drunks passed out or close to it and the junkies merrily along their own private trips the quiet man got up. Pulling the toque down over his ears, making sure that his hair was completely covered he drew his oversized jacket closer. Picking up the bundle he cradled it as if it were glass. Slithering out of the thicket he limped over to the fountain. With a final look at the precious cargo he placed it reverently down next to the fountain, under the dolphin's protective eye. He had loved this girl after all. It wasn't until she called for her mommy that he had become angry. She couldn't see what he was giving her. Her mother could never love her the way he did. Her mother sold her. How could that be love? He was the only one who could truly love his girls. Without looking back he turned and limped away, as he had done with the other girls. There would be others.

Detective Cassandra Hadley's Home

"You're going to play it, right Auntie Cass?" asked the inquisitive 8-year-old.

"Well, let's see. Did you brush your teeth?" asked Cass with a mockingly authoritative tone.

"Yep," was the simple reply.

"Had your bath?" continued the aunt.

"10-4," the young girl answered imitating her aunt's police lingo.

"Put your clothes in the hamper?" came the next question.

"Uh-huh," replied the girl with blazing green eyes and flaming red hair.

"Did your homework?"

"It's summer holidays," the young Sonya giggled almost uncontrollably.

"Oh, that's right. How on earth could I have forgotten it was summer holidays," teased the older woman while she mockingly smacked herself in the forehead. "OK, how about brushed hair?"

Rolling her eyes, young Sonya answered "Yes, but why? It just gets messed up again when I go to bed."

"It makes the tangles easier to get rid of in the morning. OK, but I want my hug and kiss now, and then you get under the covers."

The small girl jumped up and flung herself off the bed at her aunt. Cass caught her in midair and returned the strangling bear hug that was threatening to cut off her air. Sonya pulled her head out of her smothering grip and kissed Cass on the cheek and slid back down to the bed.

Once the weight had been removed from her arms, Cass bent down to tuck the child into her Disney Princess bedding. Once Sonya was comfortably tucked in for the night Cass retrieved her old, battered guitar from the overstuffed, pink chair that occupied a corner of the room. Taking time to tune the instrument she strummed each string and played a few chords before commencing with the show of the evening.

When Cass was satisfied that the guitar was properly tuned she struck a chord and began to play. It was their nightly ritual, and had been for the last four years, since Sonya came to live with her aunt. Both Cass and Sonya loved this song, and it perfectly described their relationship. While Cass wasn't Sonya's mother, she was the closest thing Sonya's could have. And they would always be close.

As the guitar found its niche Cass began to sing. The notes and lyrics were as familiar to her as the guitar in her hands. The words began to flow and soon both family members were drawn into the song completely.

May the good lord be with you  
Down every road you roam  
And may sunshine and happiness  
Surround you when you're far from home  
And may you grow to be proud  
Dignified and true

Finishing the last chorus of Forever Young Cass turned to Sonya. The young girl was already asleep, snuggled tightly under her pink comforter despite the heat. Sunset had not diminished it in the least. Shaking her head knowing where the comforter would be in the morning Cass left the room and shut the door.  
No sooner had the latched clicked into place but Cass's cell phone rang. Hurrying to her bed room to get it before Sonya woke up again, Cass snatched up the annoying device as she quickly looked at the call display. Reading Gerald’s name she quickly answered.

"Cass, we have another one," came the husky voice of the man on the other end. "We need you down at Miami Metro Park now."

"Damn it. Do we have an ID yet?" asked Cass.

"I can't give out any information over this line. Captain Adams doesn't want anything done over radio or cell phone at the moment. He said something about a possible leak in the department," Gerald informed his partner. "Just get down here."

"Fine," Cass huffed. "I'll be there ASAP. Just let me get changed." Cass closed the phone and thought to herself 'leaks from the department? What's going on?' Quickly changing into a more formal suit she stopped at her friend’s room and rapped on the door.

"Joan, I got called in. It looks like it's going to be a long night," Cass said through the door.

The door opened and Joan looked at Cass with sympathy. "It's the same case isn't Cass?"

"Yes," responded Cass dejectedly. "We haven't gotten any new leads. Hell, we haven't gotten any leads, period. This sicko could be living right next door, and we wouldn't even know it."

"Don't worry, you'll get him. And then he will pay, and pay, and pay."

"I hope you're right about that," said Cass as she ended the conversation. Turning down the hall she grabbed her truck's keys off the table by the door and was gone into the night.

The hunt had begun.


	2. Intriguing Hunter

MetroPark

Cass and her partner, Gerold MacKenzie, stood aside as the crime scene investigators recovered what evidence they could. There was precious little that they could see, the consensus being that anything of value would be trace found on the body itself. The normally dark park was lit up with half a dozen flood lights and the blinking lights from the police cars and ambulance. The two detectives observed the forensics team with despair.

"This is number seven isn't it," questioned Cass.

Gerold simply nodded an affirmative. As a father of two girls this kind of scene just pushed him closer to retirement faster. While he wanted to grieve for the little life that had been snuffed out like nothing this night his professionalism would not permit it. If not for him and Cass who would speak for her? Who would bring her killer, her torturer to justice? Pausing briefly to collect himself he started telling Cass what he knew of their latest victim.

"Same rough physical description as all the others. Perp seems to have a thing for thin Columbian girls. Petite, dark hair, brown eyes, between six and eight years old as far as I can tell," he summarized. "God damned perv," he cursed under his breath before continuing. "She was wrapped in a white sheet. Same brand as the others. Available in any big box store and sold in bulk." Sighing heavily Gerold knew the futility of trying to trace the origins of such an item to its purchaser. Another dead end. Whoever this guy was, he knew enough about forensics to be dangerous.

Walking up to the pair of detectives, FBI profiler Joeseph RunningWolf looked just as down trodden as the other two. Acknowledging Gerold, he turned to the lead detective. "The UNSUB is still following the same pattern. There is one anomaly though. The first six were found in a more industrial area about 2 miles from here. We're not too far away, but changing the location of the body disposal could mean other changes in behavior."  
"Like what," growled Gerold. The apprehension in his voice almost made the profiler step back.

"Most likely," Joeseph paused briefly, "it could mean an escalation in violence, or a shorter time that he holds these girls."

"So the bad news just keeps coming," Cass said stepping in. "Do we have any way to ID her at least?" Both men looked at their feet, ashamed that they could not even help name this girl. "Great."

"Well, we know from the others that she is probably from South America, Columbia most likely. Used as a mule to smuggle in cocaine, then sold into the sex trade," Joseph informed the two detectives.

"The FBI knows this and does nothing to stop it?" asked Gerold angrily.

"It's not that they don't try to stop it, they do. But resources are spread so thin right now that it is impossible to look for everything. Things slip through the cracks," Joeseph said defending his employer although he felt the same way.

"Things didn't slip through the cracks this time," Cass stated. "A child did."

Striding up to the trio Captain Stephen Adams addressed the group, "The vultures have already caught wind of this victim. I need some information to give them now, before they start making up their own stories." Gesturing to the waiting media vans, "Do we have anything to give them?"

The strobing lights of the police cars at the entrance to the park, plus a lone ambulance that would not be needed anymore, reflected off the sides of the news vans from each of the major networks and 24-hour news radio stations. The chaos was held at bay outside the yellow police tape. Inside that barrier the orderly evidence gathering of the technicians was interrupted by the arrival of the medical examiner. The dark van marked "Coroner" pulled up to the police tape as the crowd around it was cleared away by the uniformed beat cops. The young doctor got out of the driver's seat and walked up to the head CSI and listened to his report of the scene before proceeding over to the covered body.  
Pulling the sheets back to examine the body of the young girl, she steeled herself to the feeling of sorrow that always came to her when she had to examine a child. She had promised herself long ago that the day that feeling didn't come was the day she would quit her job. As she collected the data that would help her determine the time and possible cause and location of death Cass separated from Gerold, Adams and RunningWolf. Walking up to the ME, cautiously avoiding anything that had been tagged as possible evidence, Cass crouched down beside her.

"Anything you can tell us, doc," asked Cass.

Turning to face the detective the ME nodded. "Liver temp tells me that she died between five and five-and-a-half-hours ago. Anything else will have to wait until a full autopsy is performed," the disgust was think in her voice and only got thicker. "I can confirm that there is evidence that she was abused. Bruising on the inside of the thighs, around her arms, and what looks like a hand print around her throat. Several older bruises on her face, like she has been used as a punching bag for a couple days. Fits with the profile, but then again, nothing is positive until I perform the autopsy. With the change in location, it could be a copy cat."

"Not likely, the white sheet was our hold back. A copy cat couldn't have know about it unless he was at all the crime scenes before we got there, but you better go back and tell Adams that," Cass suggested. "He looks a little impatient, the reporters are breathing down his neck already," she continued waving her hand towards the older man tapping his foot waiting for them.

"Probably right," the doctor replied looking at the captain herself. Summoning her assistants to collect the body for transport to the morgue the ME moved away to talk with the captain of the special victims unit. As the assistants arrived to remove the body to the waiting coroner's vehicle Cass took a final look at the little girl. Heaving a sigh she studied the small face. She would etched every detail into her memory like she had all the other victims she had worked cases on. Silently she pledged to the little girl 'I promise to find whoever did this to you, I promise.'

The attendants finished placing the girl, known only as Precious Doe #7, inside the black body bag. The zipper hissed as it was drawn to close the bag. Carefully the burden was lifted onto the gurney that would take it to the waiting vehicle. Remaining where she was crouched, Cass reflected on the new circumstances of her case.

After a few moments Cass stood up and was about to go to her truck to head back to the station. There was much to do tonight, and she was bone tired already. Suddenly she heard a snap in the brush. Had it been on the ground she would have dismissed it as possibly a drunk missed in the sweep to clear out the park, but this was from above her head. Like it was in a tree. She looked up at the dying tree off to her left. In the tree she saw a shimmering wave that didn't look like it belonged there. The branch below it was slightly bowed. Rubbing her eyes she looked again, but the shimmer was gone and the branch blew gently in the breeze that had made its way inland from the ocean. She quickly dismissed what she saw as a heat distortion from the incredibly hot weather that they had been having for weeks and the stress of the case getting to her. She had already decided she was taking Sonya on a trip once this case was over.

Cass turned toward her truck and spotted Captain Adams still talking with the media. Gerold and RunningWolf had already headed off to the prescient, and were probably waiting for her. With nothing left to do at the scene except get underfoot she made her way to her dark blue Chevy. She slid in behind the wheel and flicked off the flashing red light on the dashboard. Pulling it off, she replaced it under the seat and drove to her squad's office.

Uniformed cops had picked up several park regulars, including the one that had flagged down the patrol car. There were many people throughout the department hoping that these people had seem something, ANYTHING that would help them. Cass didn't hold out much hope. That particular park was notorious for being home to nothing but hard core drunks and junkies. The chance of gleaning any useful information from any of them was negligible. Sighing again she made her way to the observation room of one of the interview rooms.  
Gerold and RunningWolf were in the room pouring coffee down the throat of the bum that had flagged down the cruiser. The guy was a regular to the Vice squad. A man who hadn't fallen from grace too long ago, but the alcohol took everything quickly. The running joke among Vice was that all the coffee in a Dunkin' Donuts couldn't sober this guy up. Still, he was the first to see the body. Of course, that is after he claimed that an alien had stepped on him in his sleep.

Turning away Cass went to interview another of the group. Picking the one that looked the most lucid of the group she escorted the 18-year-old heroin addict down to the second interview room. Flipping through a file that accompanied the girl Cass began asking questions.

"It says here that you were lying on the bench not 20 feet away from the body when the police arrived. You had to have seen something," Cass started.

"I didn't see nothin'. I was trippin'," the strung-out girl countered.

"Yes, you probably were. At least, that is what the needle near you when you were found would tell us. When did you shoot up?"

"I don't know. Sometime after the park closed. It was still light out."

"And you didn't see anyone carrying around a bundle of sheets."

The girl looked at the detective like she had two heads. "Have you been down there recently? All the drunks carry their bedding around. Business as usual."

"But you didn't see anyone approach the fountain at all?"

"No one but this old cripple. Crazy one. Wearing a toque and parka in THIS heat? Dude was seriously nuts. Then I must have tripped out again, next thing I know, cops are hauling me off to a car."

"This old cripple, what was he wearing?"

"I don't know. I had better things to do. Dude just kind of limped past. I just noticed the parka. Guy must have thought he was in Alaska or Canada or something."

"Hair color, eyes, skin? Anything?"

"Nah. Can I go now?"

Sighing, Cass noted she had been doing that a lot recently; she got up to escort the junkie out. Nothing was found on her, and she was reasonably coherent now so she couldn't be held in custody. She noticed the sun coming up, a new day dawning. Finding Gerold with a different drunk she told him she was going to go home and she'd be back later that night.

 

Outside Miami SVU

Vek'rin'ka was attracted to the lights and noise and commotion of the scene at the park. There were many places that the small vehicles with the armed oomans screamed in the night, but the added noise from the ambulance and eventually the communications vehicles were enough to get his attention. He figured that if the Bad Blood pack he was tracking was in the area they would be attracted to it as well.

Vek'rin'ka didn't pay much attention to the oomans as he scanned the area for other yautja signals. When the larger members of the group moved away he saw a small bundle that they all seemed to be avoiding touching. Scanning closer his mask made out the form of a small child. The child was most certainly thei-de, had been for several hours. Why was it here though? Should it not be with its mother who was most certainly grieving over loosing one of her offspring?

Before Vek'rin'ka could scan more deeply two more oomans, ones who clearly possessed some form of authority, walked up to the body. The larger of the pair was tense. Vek'rin'ka was too far away to scent its pheromones, but undoubtedly it was upset at the death of the child. The smaller one seemed to be in charge as the larger deferred to it. Setting his mask to scan more closely, he made a discovery. The smaller was female. No wonder the larger one, revealed to be male, was deferring to her. It was the natural order of things for females to be in charge. They were smarter than males after all, and the future of any species.

Armed oomans were moving through the bushes rousting the intoxicated ones. Vek'rin'ka had accidentally stepped on one of them earlier and woken it. The smell of intoxication was so strong on the man that Vek'rin'ka doubted he would remember his sleep's interruption. Vek'rin'ka's only task right now was to find Al'brk'vix and his pack and deal with them. Alerting the oomans to his presence would only complicate things. Al'brk'vix, however, was being difficult to find. He left plenty of bodies behind, but neither he nor his ship could be found. Not any trace of them.

Climbing silently into a large tree near the center of the ooman's focused attention Vek'rin'ka observed another one approach the child's body. This one was also female and flanked by two more oomans. The two that were next to the body previously had moved off and were conversing with two others. The new female started examining the body and the punctured it with a long slender instrument. Vek'rin'ka prickled at such desecration of a child's body but didn't move. He watched as the first female approached the second. They communicated in their own language before the second female moved away. The first female stayed as the body was wrapped and taken way. It looked as if she was PRAYING over the body! Oomans didn't pray. From what Vek'rin'ka had been taught about them they possessed no sense of honor nor did they possess the capacity to act selflessly. Asking the gods to watch over a departed spirit was not something they would do. This one, however, was a female. Only the males had been studied to date, so maybe she was different.

This ooman's actions intrigued Vek'rin'ka. He decided to learn more about ooman females while on the planet. That was, of course, after he had dealt with the pack of Bad Bloods. His code of honor prevented him from hunting any of the females, unless they attacked him, but he could still learn about them. The new information would be added to the mother ship's databases to aid future expeditions to this planet.

As the activity in the park began to die down Vek'rin'ka shifted on the branch he was standing on. The sudden movement caused the branch to creak. He noticed the female looking up into the tree he was watching from. Pauk, he cursed in his mind as he slipped off the branch and back onto the ground quietly. He used the trunk of the tree as an extra shield from the prying eyes of the armed oomans around the area.

Sneaking through the park, Vek'rin'ka made his way to the edge before climbing onto the roof of a building. Looking over the edge he saw his subject climb into a vehicle and leave the area. He armed a tracking device and fired it off with his spear gun. The tiny tracking device embedded itself in the corner of the flat, open area in the back. Now at least he could find her again if he lost her now.

While Vek'rin'ka was adjusting his mask's controls to accommodate keeping the tracking signal active he was interrupted. A low growl started to emanate from behind him. Turning quickly he say the heat signature of another yautja. Three other signatures quickly joined the first on the rooftop.

"Getting sloppy, Vek'rin'ka," the growl's owner mocked.

"And you stay the same Al'brk'vix. Never could face anyone, always coming up behind them," Vek'rin'ka snarled back. "Tell me. Is that how to managed to kill Shalna?"  
With an enraged snarl Al'brk'vix signaled to his two smaller companions. Both fairly flew at Vek'rin'ka. One extended his modified ki'cti-pa and dove at Vek'rin'ka's muscled legs. Extending his own ki'cti-pa Vek'rin'ka easily parried the attack from the low assault. The other unBlooded warrior drew a ki'its-pa from its place on his back. Extending it as he charged at the occupied Arbitrator, he followed through the motion to bring it down on the shoulders of the larger warrior.

After parrying the attack of the first unBlooded, Vek'rin'ka sidestepped and brought his wrist blades up to block the blow from the bladed staff. The younger fighter tried to force the larger warrior back while his companion recovered. Using his free hand, Vek'rin'ka grabbed the staff trying to bear down on him. Ripping it out of the stunned adolescent's hands he spun it and parried another attack from behind him. Swinging his ki'cti-pa at the unarmed yautja he forced the youngster to jump to the side, ending up landing precariously close to the edge of the building. Spinning to counter another attack from the second unBlooded, he brought the appropriated staff down with a slash that would have sliced the young idiot's throat. Choosing to show a little prowess, Vek'rin'ka merely left a shallow cut on the poor excuse for an opponent's throat.  
Continuing the spin, Vek'rin'ka lowered the ki'its-pa and leveled it to collide with the legs of the other yautja that was preparing to attack him with a kainde amedha dagger. Tripping up the pathetic fighter, Vek'rin'ka hissed at the defeated adversary.

"Nan-deThan-guan," Vek'rin'ka snarled at the prone form before plunging the staff into the unBlooded's chest. Turning back on the other whose throat he had cut he knew that finishing this one off would be gkei'moun-an easy mission. Discarding the ki'its-pa in his hand, he brought out his own. The bladed ends extended to their full six-and-a-half foot length with an ominous snick. A single piece of black chitinous armor hung from its handle.

The remaining unBlooded yautja stood his ground, one hand on his throat to staunch the flow of blood. Vek'rin'ka scoffed at the display of weakness. The wound was barely superficial, yet this little pup was acting as if it would kill him. Vek'rin'ka wasn't going to make it that easy. He waited patiently until the younger warrior realized what he wanted him to do.

It finally dawned on the young yautja. Seizing the last shreds of his courage the young male charged again at the older warrior. The open frontal assault disgusted Vek'rin'ka. There was no wonder that this male was not a Blooded warrior. His skill was severely lacking. Even if an Elder had given him an assignment to a Kainde Amedha Chiva this little s'yuit-de would never survive. He had obviously not earned the weapons he had or the armor he wore.

Dodging the over powered charge, Vek'rin'ka brought his ki'its-pa around and slammed the sharp tip into the back of the rushing target. The momentum pulled Vek'rin'ka around to face the space that Al'brk'vix and his second, Wrk'va, had occupied at the beginning of the fight.

Before realizing that the other half of his quarry was gone Vek'rin'ka spoke in victory, "Nain-desintje-de." Looking over the roof and switching through the vision modes on his visor he could not spot the other two Bad Bloods. "Cjit, how does he keep doing that?" He cursed at himself for letting Al'brk'vix get away again.

Vek'rin'ka searched for the trail thoroughly. The lack of any sign of Al'brk'vix frustrated Vek'rin'ka beyond anything he had ever experienced. The constant scent of something else disconcerted him as well. It smelt like an ooman, and if seemed to follow him everywhere. It lingered in the places he visited more than once. It was almost comical to believe that an ooman was tracking him. He would have to keep a sharper eye out from now on. Deciding it would be best if he took a break from his fruitless endeavor he turned his attention to the softly blipping indicator in the corner of his mask's visor. The tracking device showed that the vehicle it had been planted on was stationary near one of the armed ooman's bases.

Vek'rin'ka reached the building as the sun started its ascent. Spotting the vehicle parked in front of the building he started scanning the interior with the advanced thermal settings on his mask. The image of the female was stored in the mask's operating computer both as a thermal and visible spectrum image; however, the solid walls of the building made the visible spectrum scan pretty useless.

Not finding his target Vek'rin'ka kept scanning grumbling that it just was not his day. The program he had set to monitor the tracking device interrupted his thoughts with a quiet beat. Checking the tracker he was informed that the vehicle had started to move. Looking down at the street he spotted the truck pulling away from the curb. Quickly descending the building, he sprinted across the vacant sidewalk. Before the vehicle could accelerate away he grabbed onto the back of it. Still running, he quickly pulled himself into the cargo area. The large truck hit a pot hole as he landed on the exposed flat surface disguising any possible shifting on the vehicle's suspension. Bracing against the sides he lay down to avoid exposing himself to the buffeting winds created by the speed of the vehicle. Savoring the heat from the dark surface as it collected the sunlight he settled in to enjoy the ride.

After the seemingly endless jolting ride, Vek'rin'ka felt the vehicle slow and turn. It came to a complete stop in front of another building. This one was smaller than the ones cluttered toward the center of the city and there were many of them spaced out. Here, the adult oomans were greatly outnumbered by the children. It's a residential area, the realization dawned on him.

As the female got out of the vehicle Vek'rin'ka remained perfectly still until he heard the female move away from the vehicle. Climbing quietly out of the vehicle he made his way over to more substantial cover. He scaled a leafy tree next to the home and tried to make himself even more inconspicuous against the trunk.

Sufficiently sure that he would not be spotted by the younglings that were active in the area Vek'rin'ka scanned the building for his subject. Through a window near his perch he spotted a small ooman gathering equipment. His interest was peaked when he saw the little one add a narrow club to the collection of things she was added to a bag. Combat training? For one so young? And why would a mother risk her life being a warrior when she had a young one to care for? It didn't seem to fit that the male would stay home to care for the young. They were typically the warriors of the oomans.

Vek'rin'ka's thermal scans showed the female he had been following was in a washing room pouring water over herself. The thermal imagery was distorted somewhat from the hot water that was cascading down from the facet in the wall. The ritual was fascinatingly different from his culture that preferred taking leisurely baths. Not particularly wanting to watch such a boring event he turned back to the window to the child's room. Abruptly another adult female walked into the room and started conversing with the child. Dismissing the new female as an aseigan by the way she went about doing the simple domestic chores, he figured the warrior human to be the dominant female of the house, and the mother of the child. The aseigan was probably used to take care of the child when its mother was out of the house, though he still could not understand why the female would risk orphaning her child by being a warrior. He had seen reports and studies of how the males of this species did not discriminate between their victims. They, in fact, often sought out those they perceived as weaker than them. A dishonorable way of life.

XXXXX

"Sonya, are you almost ready, dear?" Joan asked her young charge.

"Almost, is Auntie Cass going to come?" the youngster replied without looking around to her nanny.

"Yep," Joan answered. "She's taking you there herself and she's going to introduce you to someone."

Once Sonya was finished packing she grabbed the bag and headed down the stairs. The nanny set the bundle of clothes onto the dresser to put away after she made breakfast for her charge and turned to leave the room.

XXXXX

Vek'rin'ka watched as the warrior female and child left the home with the bag. He followed at a discreet distance observing their interaction. It was obviously a mother/pup relationship. The pair led him to an open area with many other pups and their parents running around, both mothers and fathers. The ooman warrior's charge ran to join the other children gathered in two groups around a square field that was fenced off from spectators by a metal mesh.

Shortly, two other adult oomans split the group of children in two and walked to two different sides of the field. The children from one side of the field ran out and took up positions around the square shape drawn on the ground and spread out behind it. The other group sent one of theirs up one at a time with a club. The child in the center of the field would through a round object at the child holding a club, who would then try to hit it.

It was a lesson in team work, the idea dawned on Vek'rin'ka as he watched the rest of the players on the field try to catch the object when it was hit. The concept of the game came quickly to him as he watched. The teams would switch off who was in the field and who was hitting. By the end of the game he had figured out that the score was determined by how many hitters had made their way around the safety bags and back to where they started. It was a good game to teach the youngsters teamwork.

While observing the game that the children played, Vek'rin'ka also watched the warrior human he had been following. Part way through the game a male joined the female he was watching. The male embraced her and she leaned into it. This must have been her mate. If she had a child she had to have a mate.

This male disturbed Vek'rin'ka though. Something about him prickled at Vek'rin'ka, though he could not put his talon on it. Moving closer, Vek'rin'ka studied the male closer. It was not until the wind shifted and brought the scent to his nose.

This ooman was the sourced of the smell that had been haunting him for days.


	3. The Hairs on the Back of My Neck

Metro Miami Everglades Mall

Gregory Burns watched the young girl with her mother. She was perfect. Her long black hair shone in the lights of the gaudy display. Her brown eyes were trying to look everywhere at once. Innocence radiated off her small body.

He had followed her and her mother discreetly for almost an hour. Burns mentally admonished the young mother for being so careless. Her lack of awareness in her surroundings was a very bad thing. He would be teaching her that lesson shortly. For now, however, he was content to watch his prey.

As Burns followed the pair around the mall he scouted for opportunities. He never entered the same store at the same time. That could possibly alert the mother. He didn't want to get too close too soon. What mom lacked in environmental awareness she made up for with the iron grip on her daughter's hand. The grasp, however, was occasionally released when the mother went to pick up an odd item here or there to examine more closely. These brief moments did not go unnoticed.

Burns watched from his inconspicuous location in a store across the promenade. He knew how to lure the girl away. All he had to do was bide his time for the right moment.

Once the mother-daughter combination entered a fairly busy book store Burns followed. The daughter was exhausted from the long day in the mall. Anyone could see that.

Unfortunately her mother either didn't notice or didn't care that her daughter's shorter legs didn't have the same level of endurance. The young girl's mother let go of her hand to open a large hardcover edition of a new best selling fiction novel. While wrapped up in the summary on the leaflet she did not notice her daughter wander away to the children's section despite admonishments to remain close. She also missed the handsome man approach her daughter. So wrapped up in the new book she never saw them leave together either with the promise of ice cream.

Precious minutes ticked by while she read that book. Minutes that Burns used to his advantage before the mother finally noticed that her child was no longer by her side. By the time the "Code Adam" went out through the mall Burns' black Blazer was well out of the parkade.

Pulling out of the parkade Burns thought of his newest acquisition. Sure, he had broken his own rules, especially the one about only taking in girls that would not be missed, but he wanted to toy with this female detective that had been assigned to the murders he had committed. Besides, he didn't want to wait for his contacts in Columbia to find him a new girl.

Burns had been insulted when he had found out that a woman had been assigned to his case. A simple woman who had no chance of catching him. Then an idea formed in his mind. The police were toying with him. That was all. So his demented mind decided to toy with the police. He would show this female cop, this Detective Hadley, just exactly where she belonged, and that was not behind a badge and a gun. That's right; he would show her a woman's place.

With a glance into the backseat at his "beloved" cargo he sped off to his playhouse. All ready his thoughts drifted to a means of taunting the detective.

Ball Park

"Honey, that was an awesome home run," Cass praised the beaming child.

"It wasn't a home run Auntie Cass. It was a grand slam," the little girl exclaimed while jumping up and shaking her fists in the air in triumph.

"Well, I stand corrected," a very proud Cass submitted.

The game was over. Sonya's team had won by two runs with she herself batting in the runs they needed to pull ahead and win the game. After all the players and coaches had shaken hands they dispersed. Sonya ran to find her aunt. She had promised an introduction and Sonya hoped that she was going to meet the man that her aunt had just started seeing.

"Sonny, hon. This is Scott Cach," Cass introduced. Scott gallantly bowed to the girl.

"Hey there. I saw that last hit. You smacked that ball right outta the park," Scott said to Sonya. At the praising comment from the new adult Sonya beamed even brighter.

"Thanks," came the modest reply. The trio walked toward the entrance of the park. Sonya and Scott were chatting it up, completely leaving Cass out of the conversation. Scott learned that Sony loved baseball and soccer. Her favorite color was pink and she hated brussel sprouts. Her favorite movie was "Beauty and the Beast" but she thought that the beast looked "handsomer" before he turned back into a human. He was cute when he was fuzzy.

Sonya learned that Scott liked kids but didn't have any. His favorite pizza toppings were black olives and pepperoni. Most importantly he was a police man just like her Auntie Cass. Aside from the black olives on pizza, Sonya thought that Scott sounded like a nice guy. He even gave her a high-five for her first ever grand slam and promised to take her and her aunt out for ice cream one day.

Once the trio had reached Scott's car Cass and Sonya declined a ride home. They opted to walk the two blocks home and discuss what Sonya thought of Scott. Drawing close to home their conversation shifted to what their plans for the rest of the day were. Sonya had a summer arts class that Joan would take her to. Cass needed to get at least a couple hours of sleep before she went to back to work. She hadn't slept since before her call in the night before and she was bone tired. Feeling like someone was watching her every move wasn't helping any, either. Maybe the sleep would clear her mind a little.

Tracking Cass and Sonya

The children's game was entertaining to watch until the strange male showed up. After that Vek'rin'ka could not concentrate on anything but trying to figure out this male. The ooman leaders had been attempting to acquire his race's technology for a couple years, since they first became aware of the hunting expeditions. The tactics being used now, however, did not fit with the previous attempts. Previously, large numbers of armed oomans were sent to capture the warrior. Now there was only one ooman trying to track him and he was hardly armed at all.

Vek'rin'ka decided that after he had finished dealing with Al'brk'vix he would have a little fun with this ooman. Maybe he would return home with a new trophy after all.  
Vek'rin'ka was pulled out of his thoughts when his observation subject became extremely animated by something she saw. Turning to the field he caught a glimpse of the small ooman running around the field as the sphere they had been playing with flew over the rear barrier. He had lost track of which team was ahead previously, but watching the small one's team greet her at the end of her run the outcome was unmistakable. After honoring the defeated team the little one ran to her mother. She was greeted by her mother and they slapped hands in the air. It was an unusual ritual, but it apparently meant success.

The next couple moments were confusing to Vek'rin'ka. It looked as if the child was just being introduced to the male that he had assumed was her father. He wished he could get closer to hear the conversation. His broader than normal understanding of the ooman language would have helped, lamentably the noise of the other children and their parents prevented him from eavesdropping on the trio. This was a new development though. Previous surveys of the planet's population showed that the males and females raised their young together, different from his own culture where the males rarely kept in contact with their offspring unless the parents were bonded as life mates. Maybe this was not the child's father after all; it could be a new potential mate that was courting the female. Perhaps he could find a way to acquire a sample of DNA from the male and the child for a paternity test, just to satisfy his curiosity.

Watching the little female chattering with the new male Vek'rin'ka had to admire her fearless spirit. She seemed to be a happy child, always animated and friendly with everyone he had seen her interact with. Vek'rin'ka did enjoy watching children. The bravado that came with age often extinguished the innocence that is often missing in the universe these days. His status as an Arbitrator provided him many opportunities to witness that lack of innocence. He would have enjoyed watching his own children grow, but they were all raised by their mothers and he had very little contact with them. Most communiqués were just notices of braiding ceremonies or whether his offspring had passed their Kainde Amedha Chiva or not. However, he was too young to settle down with only one or two females. He still enjoyed the breeding season too much for that.

Seeing the three oomans leave the field he followed. At the entrance the trio split up with the male making his way towards an enclosed vehicle. Before leaving the two females his hand lingered on the arm of the mother. If the male was not the father of the child, the potential mate theory was the most probable explanation.

Vek'rin'ka followed the two females back to their home. Seeing the adult settle down to rest and the child's care taken over by the aseigan he left the dwelling vowing to return. For right now, though, he had a bad blood to take care of.

Later that evening…

Captain Adams met Cass at the entrance to the squad's office. The concern was evident in his body language and on his face as he sternly addressed his subordinate.

"Cass, my office, now," the frustrated captain said.

Unused to seeing her normally stoic boss so perturbed Cass followed immediately without question. It was not until she entered the office that she saw Gerold examining an evidence bag.

Recovering her wits Cass asked, "What's going? Gerold, what's that?"

Gerold looked at his partner, "It as note Cass. It's from the perp. And Cass, it's addressed directly to you."

Cass looked from her boss to her partner she cautiously asked, "What does it say?"

"It's a challenge Cass. He is challenging you to stop him from killing his next victim," Adams said solemnly.

"What victim? He's never had a new victim this quickly."

Gerold turned to his partner and picked up another evidence bag. "This picture came with the note," Gerold said as he passed the second evidence bag to Cass.

In the Polaroid was a young girl. Her long black hair was in tangles and her eyes were swollen and red from crying. The flash of the camera reflected off the silver duct tape wrapped around her mouth and the set of handcuffs that held her hands over her head. Cass's heart broke when she looked at the eyes in the picture. The dark brown orbs were wide with fear and blood shot from crying.

"Let me see the note," Cass finally said.

Reluctantly Gerold handed it to Cass. She looked down at the plain white sheet of paper. It read"

"Dear Detective Hadley,

I would say it was a pleasure to meet you, but we haven't met yet. I must say that I was a bit insulted when you were assigned to these murders. I had hoped that the police would at least provide me with a challenge. But now that my opponent is a mere woman I really do not fear being captured.

However, I am interested in seeing how badly you would have fared against a real man. So I am issuing you a challenge. Find this girl by 0700 and she will be allowed to leave untouched. If you don't find her, I will have her to myself for the rest of her life.  
I look forward to loving her."

Cass looked up from the note. Both men in the room saw the look in her eyes. Both knew that it would be a very bad idea to get in her way right now.

"RunningWolf needs to see this," Cass more ordered than implied as she held up the letter. "He might be able to tell us more about the perp now. This," she continued holding the photo, "has to go to the lab now. Their A/V guy has to find something in it to tell us where it was taken." Fury blazed in her eyes as she started to direct all her being into finding the girl.

"We at least have an ID, this time," Adams added.

The statement caused Cass to whip around and face him again. "What?!" Cass exclaimed.

"He took her from a mall this afternoon. Her mother turned away for a couple seconds and she was gone," Gerold offered.

"Well, what's her name?" Cass snapped.

"Kristen Reca. She's four years old. Her parents are down the hall with Faulkner now, giving their statements. The mother is pretty messed up," Adams informed the two detectives.

"OK," Cass confirmed. "Gerold, get this to RunningWolf," she said handing off the note, "I'm taking this down to the crime lab myself. Call me if you get anything else."

Turning on her heel she disappeared out of the office and was gone before either man was able to stop her. The single-minded determination to catch this killer carried her all the way to the basement of the prescient before she realized it. There, housed underground, was their state-of-the-art crime lab. Cass handed over the photo to the technician on duty in the Audio/Visual department.

"Anton, I need an analysis on this right now,"

Looking around from his computer screen he took the photo from Cass. One did not question her when she was like this. As her friend Anton accepted that little behavioral quirk, even if it was a little rude.

"Good evening to you too," Anton sarcastically teased Cass as he took the photo from Cass and scanned it into his system.

Pulling the image up onto the large wall screen Anton turned back to Cass, "What do you need out of it?"

"Preferably the location it was taken at," Cass told Anton.

Turning back to the screen Anton focused on the background. If anything linking the picture with identifiable location was going to be found then it would be in the background and not on the little girl in the foreground. Using the technology at his disposal he cleared up the area behind the little girl's face. As the algorithm ran its course the background became clearer. Various crates and boxes could be seen.

"So it's a warehouse, but where? There are thousands of them in the city," Cass said to herself.

"Weren't your other victims found in an industrial/commercial area," Anton questioned.

"Yes," Cass replied, "wait a minute. What's that?" She indicated a bit of black writing on one of the shelving units. "Can you magnify that?"

"Sure thing," Anton said. "Just five me a sec." A few moments later the image was enlarged and clarified to reveal the identification written on the shelving support: "Burns International Shipping."

"Burns Shipping. Now I remember. Huge company. Old man died. Cancer I think. Son took it over when he got out of the military and it went bankrupt," Anton provided.  
"And left a huge lot of warehouses near the waterfront, all pretty much abandoned. Perfect place to hide without being noticed," interrupted Cass. "Thanks Anton. I have to get this information back to Gerold. You may have just broken this case." Turning on her heel Cass ran out of the lab leaving a slightly beaming A/V tech behind his computer.  
Bounding up the stairs two at a time she wasted no time in finding her partner with RunningWolf. The look they gave her was dismissed in light of the time sensitive information that had to be acted on right away.

"We have a general location," Cass huffed as she held up the photo triumphantly. "Let's go. We have to wake up a judge and get a warrant for the Burns Shipping warehouse lot."  
Addressing the profiler, Gerold said, "I'll talk to you later."

Nodding to Gerold, RunningWolf turned down the hall. "Good luck," he called out over his shoulder as he made his way to the entrance to go back to his office at FBI headquarters.

Immediately Preceding

After leaving his captain's office Gerold thread his way to the small room that had been set up for RunningWolf. Knocking on the door as he entered Gerold found the profiler surrounded by numerous manila folders.

"Hey Joe, I have that note that came in for you to look at."

Looking up from his pile of files RunningWolf acknowledged Gerold with a nod. "Let me see it," RunningWolf said holding out a hand to take the letter from Gerold.

Gerold handed over the clear evidence bag. Carefully reading the contents of the note RunningWolf started shaking his head.

"This isn't good," RunningWolf stated. "He is escalating. His ego is beginning to lead his decisions. If we don't find him, he will only get worse."

"Cass is down at the lab. She and the techies are trying to figure out where the picture was taken."

"Picture?" RunningWolf questioned. "What was it a picture off?"

"The new vic. Handcuffed, duct-tapped. Why?"

"He's taunting her. He's not taking girls for himself anymore. His motive has changed. Abruptly."

"And?" Gerold prodded for more information.

"And he may just get careless enough to get caught. The whole reason we haven't been able to catch him is because he has planned every detail of his crime before hand. Now it is almost like he is winging it. We may benefit from the lack of planning on his part."

"Cass is working out a location now. We only have another seven hours to find the girl. If anyone has the determination to find this victim it's her."

"I hope so, but take this," RunningWolf said indicating the letter, "down to the lab. Once you have a suspect you will be able to match it to any printer he owns."

"I'll go drop it off in a minute, but there is something else I wanted to talk to you about."

RunningWolf looked at Gerold inquisitively.

"Cass started dating an agent."

"And?"

"He doesn't seem right."

"Really," skepticism crossed RunningWolf's face.

"Don't look at me like that. I know it sounds weird, but let's just call it 'cop's instinct', makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up whenever I see him. He doesn't feel right. Like he's hiding something. Can you ask around the office? Find out what kind of guy he is."

The paternal look in Gerold's eyes told RunningWolf that he was just concerned about his young partner. Nodding RunningWolf assured Gerold, "Sure, I'll ask around."

"The guy's name is Cach. Scott Cach."

"I've never heard of him myself, but I'll ask about him," RunningWolf said as he ushered the detective out of his makeshift office.

The two men were just leaving as Cass rushed up to them. "We have a location," she said.  
Office of Joeseph RunningWolf, FBI Field Headquarters

RunningWolf had done as he had promised. Deserted though the field office may be at 1 am he asked everyone he saw if the knew an agent Cach. No one had heard of him. Finding that odd, that not one person had heard of this agent, he decided to head to his office to do a little more searching.

Switching on the computer RunningWolf logged on to the machine and began a search of the agency's personnel files. Scanning the results he could not find any agent with the name of Scott Cach, or any variation of it. Changing to another database he input the name. The results disappointed the FBI agent. He had hoped that Gerold's 'cop instinct' was wrong, but he should have known better than to question the instincts of a near 30-year veteran.

RunningWolf printed off all the non-confidential files and news reports and scrounged around for an empty file folder. Neatly assembling the papers, he left the folder containing the printed materials on his desk. Tomorrow Gerold and he would have to talk with Cass about her new boyfriend.


End file.
